


Gamer Girl

by TheStrugglingWriter707



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Asian Character(s), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BUT HER HOMIES LOVE HER PLATONICALLY, Beaches, Burn Out, Caring, Cats, Childhood Friends, Cinnamon Roll, Clumsiness, Coming of Age, Competition, Cultural Differences, Cute, DOESN'T GET FAR I SWEAR, Day At The Beach, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff and Angst, Gaming, Gen, Hair Dyeing, Hot Chocolate, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, K-pop References, Korean Characters, Lesbian Character, Loss of Parent(s), Minor Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Not What It Looks Like, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Pastries Fix Everything, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Restaurants, Sarcasm, Scary Movies, Self Confidence, Sexism, Sleep Deprivation, Stress Baking, pro gamers, pro gaming, streamer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27945548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrugglingWriter707/pseuds/TheStrugglingWriter707
Summary: Jamie Brooks is a conflicted 17-year-old with no concrete plans for her future. She escapes her responsibilities and bleak reality through the world of video games and it is here that she discovers her true calling: professional gaming. Jamie gives up the security of her familiar surroundings for a chance at success, moving to Los Angeles after successfully completing an open try-out and being signed for a team. Jamie trains within a diverse roster to hone her skills and strive for success in a newly-established esports league. Over a testing season filled with adversity, uncertainty, and unprecedented challenges, is it possible that she loses sight of her goal? How does she balance the stresses of approaching adulthood with lengthy training hours? Is this one-in-a-lifetime opportunity a vehicle for growth, or will her immaturity and short temper lead to her downfall? There's only one way to find out.





	1. Prologue

Technology is taking over the world. Like it or not, every aspect of our lives is becoming more and more reliant on machines. You could quite happily spend the rest of your days without leaving your house if you so desired: shopping can be done online, food can be ordered online, even jobs can be worked entirely from home. Yet another sector that had been revolutionised by the technological age is entertainment. While the boomers still fumble to update their Facebook status and consistently fall foul to convincing scams from sexy singles in their area, this generation’s children are learning to use a controller before they can walk. 

My name is Jamie Brooks and I’m a gamer. Despite my parents’ best efforts, I have been attracted to the world of video games from a very young age. I go by many names: Blaze, DPS One-Trick, Ultimate Carry God. Maybe I made that last one up, but one thing is for certain; I’m not a gamer girl. 

The drastic spike in popularity when it comes to video games has given birth to a new species looking to capitalise from the chronically single. They too go by many names: gamer girls, Twitch thots, e-girls. Their natural habitats are streaming sites. They go live wearing outfits that wouldn’t look out of place on a stripper, smirking and winking at the camera as they demonstrate play so ugly you have to wonder if it’s their first time using a computer. Armies of dedicated simps are willing to fork out their hard-earned cash to fund their collection of anime wigs and cat ears. In the long run, many of these charming individuals branch away from gaming altogether once enough people are caught in their web. 

To dispel any concerns, please don’t think I’m not like the other girls. I know that the vast majority of female gamers are just that—girls who play video games. Some could run rings around their male counterparts in any game and they will always have my utmost respect. Unfortunately, this other breed can evoke assumptions and hatred that makes us feel uncomfortable or even unsafe in the community.

I may not have brought about huge societal reform or ended sexism with a flick of my non-existent magic wand, but I like to think I’ve made it just that bit easier for worthy women to get their foot in the door and achieve their true potential.


	2. Chapter 1

“J? Where are you going?” My mum’s suspicious voice called out just as I reached the door, a few short steps from freedom. Luckily, I was more than ready for this question. You could say I’m an expert at excuses when it comes to sneaking out. The lies naturally rolled from my tongue without a moment’s hesitation, years of practice coming into good use. Is it, technically, wrong to lie, especially to the one who brought you into this world? That’s debatable, but it’s better than spending my life as a reclusive hermit camped in a corner of my room, nothing for company except an unnerving pile of textbooks and the remnant of revision notes. 

“I was just going to Heather’s. We have a Maths test tomorrow and I promised to help her revise, I’ll only be a few hours.” I said calmly. Heather was, and still is, my best friend, and has been since our first day of primary school. She is life-savvy, reliable and supports me 100% in everything I do. Most importantly, my parents consider her a suitable friend who would never distract me from my schoolwork. 

Heather always provided me with a good cover story, and while she didn’t have a clue when it came to gaming, she grew to tolerate my animated recounts of whatever match I had poured over the previous night. She’s truly an angel. My mum looked me up and down like a policeman interrogating a particularly shifty suspect. I had taken extra care to make sure that nothing about my appearance would arouse suspicion. A dull coat hid the colourful Alterforce shirt underneath and my bag was stuffed full of textbooks as a finishing touch to my disguise. After a few seconds of intense scrutiny, she waved me off.

I reached my destination in record time, heart pounding and bulky backpack seeming to weigh an extra tonne. An outsider would see the battered door in its vague shade of purple and assume it led to some kind of unsavoury gang meeting. I’ll admit, it does look somewhat shady from the outside, and the cramped stairs leading down to the PCs wouldn’t look out of place in a horror movie. 

However, once inside, you are transported to an alternate dimension of bright lights, loud noises and a recurring cast of salty gamers. The equipment was more than suitable for my needs and the owner was a kind man looking to save local teenagers from the clutches of boredom. Usually, we would be the only ones there. The arena only sat ten and was criminally underrated. I wasn’t complaining, though. Neil knew us all by name and, as we were his fond regulars, gave us the occasional freebie or special offer.   
I pushed through the peeling paintwork, eager to make the most of every second of screen time, before almost tripping flat on my face. I never could remember that step. Neil, having seen the sight an immeasurable amount of times, didn’t even mention it. Before I had a chance to make my usual request, he reached under his desk and thrust an array of peripherals into my arms. It was unsurprising that he remembered my preferences, considering the sheer amount of time I spent there. 

The first time I wandered inside, led by a posse of boys who had seemingly been born wearing a headset, I was dumbfounded by the sheer variety when it came to mice and keyboards. One enlightening lecture later and I felt a little more confident when making my decision. It wasn’t top-of-the-range; the small business simply didn’t make enough money to afford anything like that, but back then you could have handed me a Poundland keyboard and been elevated to god status in my eyes.

“Try not to fall this time, I’ll start charging if you break one more keyboard!” Neil called faintly from the top of the stairs. Never get a reputation for being clumsy or no one will let you live it down. I carefully traversed the steep staircase, within arm’s reach of the bannister just in case, until I could hear the familiar sound of my friends—if you could call them that. 

“Again? I don’t even play tank. Guess someone needs more practice.”  
“Off-tanks are just DPS with a fat hitbox, and it’s not my fault. They’ve only been out for 3 days!”  
“And we’ve been playing the same amount of time. What’s that smell? Ah, the stench of failure.”  
I rolled my eyes. Jack and Luke, despite having been self-proclaimed best friends for the last sixteen years, were in the middle of one of their frequent fights.   
“Shut up. At least I’m not—“  
“Jamie, you finally made it? We were starting to think you’d walked into a car or something.” Hunter interrupted.

He smirked from behind a computer screen, stretching his long fingers as if he were about to compete in the esports Olympics. Jack and Luke were still locked in their pathetic squabble about a previous 1v1, Kieran was hunched in the corner ignoring everyone as usual and Alex was curled over a cup of instant noodles with an unidentifiable bottle of ‘I don’t even want to know what’ balanced dangerously close to his setup. Let’s just say that if it were me, that would be yet another keyboard murder on my conscience. I tore off my jacket, shook my hair out of my face, and got everyone’s attention.

“Jack, Luke, will you shut up for a second!” They took the hint and sat down at their computers. There may not have been a formal seating plan, but everyone just so happened to choose the same spot each day. They had been the same ever since the start of high school, and you did not steal someone’s spot if you valued your life.

“Kieran? Kieran! Get your sad arse out of the practice range so we can warm up properly. Alex, you have five seconds to finish that before it goes in the bin.” I glared daggers at the two slow boys. Despite my somewhat lacking height (158 centimetres to be exact) I was not any less intimidating when I wanted to be. Unless I slipped over something in the process.

We started our usual routine. Conveniently, we all happened to have a slight addiction to a game called Alterforce. A class-based first-person shooter, quickly topping charts with a cultish following all around the world, and the first game I’d ever fully dedicated myself to. 

Before, I had spent my time hopping between a wide array of genres: MOBAs, RTS, even some simulators. I didn’t take gaming seriously and was the first to admit that I was awful. Not that it mattered to me, I adored coming to the rental place with the very same group of boys I was sat with currently, copying their favourites and gleefully yelling over voice chat whenever I completed an objective to any degree of success. I convinced Heather to join me a few times, and to my relief, she was even worse than me.   
A few months prior, Hunter had discovered Alterforce. I expected it to be like the other games, that we’d mess around for a few sessions before moving on to something else, but his incessant bragging was becoming so frustrating that we had to try it. Soon, it was the only game we played and we were incredibly competitive, striving to be the best. No one was more serious than me. The rest of our group (except for Hunter) bounced between different roles, hovering at a similar rank with no real fluctuation, up or down. I dedicated all my time into DPS, spending hours practising my flick shots until I could play with my eyes closed, and was never found without my notebook of scratchy strategy ideas. Once I learnt about the world of professional play, I was hooked.

“You’re crazy.” Heather declared with a fond smile.   
“Wait, does that match even have subtitles?” I shook my head, not taking my eyes away from the screen. “Wow, I’m impressed that you’ve become so fluent in Korean in a single day. Are you really going to tell me you’re watching a game in a language you don’t speak?”

My hard work paid off. Hunter and I both found success, rising in a variety of stacks and consistently climbing, but he plateaued earlier. While I rose closer and closer to the top, occasionally running into small streamers and wannabe pros, Hunter was trapped in the second-highest rank. We’d joke about it, calling each other trash and proclaiming how boosted I was, but I could tell it was starting to get to him. Nonetheless, no matter our ranks, the six of us always warmed up together. We’d play a few games of unranked before braving the competitive ladder. The sheer range of our group would lead to some interesting matchmaking, but it would never stop our little ritual.

After warming up, my cursor hovering over the Ranked Play icon, Hunter tapped me on the shoulder. I whipped around, slightly irritated but also curious. I was becoming tantalisingly close to Top 500, immortalising my name and solidifying my place as one of the best in Europe. I realised with nervous excitement that if I played perfectly, today would be the day. I was never one to back away from a challenge, but Hunter’s request caught me off-guard.

“Hey Jamie, sorry, Blaze,” He stressed the last syllable mockingly, uncaring even as I flipped him off in response. “Shall we duo? You know, for old time’s sake.” He tried to feign indifference, but I couldn’t miss the hopeful glimmer in his eyes, sparkling like emeralds. He too was getting close to his goal, achieving the highest rank, but I was hesitant. I couldn’t even play with him on my main account. I was forced to use my lower level account. which was barely within the 350 elo requirement, and I didn’t feel like giving up the time that could just as easily be dedicated to my own rank.

Despite this, I agreed, just hoping he could handle playing the game at a higher rating than he was used to.   
“Sure thing, I know how badly you need this carry.” I was becoming irritated by his constant whining of how the ranked system was unfair, how he deserved to be higher, how it made no sense that I had surpassed him while he was stuck in Masters. I simply let it go through one ear and out the other, but with each passing day, he was becoming more insufferable. If there was a way to make it stop, I would gladly cooperate.

Two losses and five wins later, I was ready for a break. Not only was the elusive Top 500 icon now out of reach, for today at least, but the minimal gain in SR had also led to a dramatic spike in Hunter’s ego. I absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter, occasionally pausing to like a photo or read an interesting post, until something unexpected grabbed my attention. Namely, an announcement from the Alterforce development team about something called the Alterforce Championship Series.  
“—allowing those who want to take it to the next level a chance to shine on stage for hundreds of thousands all across the world. The ACS represents the best talent this community has to offer, with an enticing prize pool to those who are skilled enough to make it to the top.”  
I had begun to read out loud without realising. A spark was ignited within me; I had watched enough pro-level to play to know this would be huge. Hunter seemed to be equally excited and pulled out his own phone. I noticed that some accounts had been tagged at the end of the tweet. Upon closer inspection, these turned out to be the teams that would be competing. That’s when I truly realised the scale of the Series. Almost every team was sponsored by the most dominant companies in the esports industry. I tried to take in every bit of information possible. Cryptic tweets, logos, and dates filled each page.

“Look at this!” Hunter’s shift in volume made me flinch, and I gave him a few choice words. He ignored me, thrusting his phone to my face, and I suddenly understood his eager reaction.  
“Open trials…” I trailed off, already fully absorbed in the fantasy. Before, I had never even considered the thought of becoming a pro myself. I simply never thought it was possible, never thought I could ever be the one in the spotlight. This advert for an open trial created a whole host of ideas I would have scoffed at just minutes before.  
“I’m going to apply.” I had never seen Hunter look so gleeful, so genuinely happy in his entire life. I returned it momentarily, before reading further and frowning.  
“Dude, you know it says 4300 plus, right?” On a good day, he was at around 3.9k. Well above average, comfortably holding his own in Master, but nowhere near the stable Grandmaster rank that the ad was looking for. Surprisingly, his smile didn’t fade in the slightest.

“And? We both know I belong higher.” I would have to disagree.  
“Honestly, we’re around the same skill level.” He was really starting to get on my nerves.  
“I’ll just exaggerate a bit on the application. The actual trials aren’t for a few days, I’m sure I’ll be up to where I belong by then.” My forced smile was becoming faker by the second. However, I didn’t want to be the one to shatter the illusion (that would only end in a temper tantrum of astronomical proportions) so I made some non-committal remark and asked him to send me the link. “You’re going to apply?” He said, raising his eyebrows.   
“Yeah? You got a problem with that?” I retorted with slightly more malice than I intended.  
“Well...you’re a girl, and, you know, everyone knows that you don’t actually belong in GM.”

“What are you on about?” Three voices chorused simultaneously.  
“Jamie is the most addicted of all of us, anyone could reach GM with the amount of time she spends playing,” Jack added.  
Hunter gave in and reluctantly sent me the application link. 

At the time, I didn’t understand what was wrong with him, but I wasn’t about to let that affect my mood. We both filled out the spreadsheet in silence. He finished far quicker than me, mostly due to my ridiculously long-winded elaboration on the open-ended questions such as ‘Why do you wish to become a professional gamer?’. At least I managed to get it done before my computer hire ran out. I turned to Hunter, having had sufficient time to cool down.  
“Look, this is stupid. We both want to do a trial, and it will be a lot more awkward if we have to do it in the same room pretending the other person doesn’t exist. Friends?” I stuck my hand out with a bemused expression. Luckily, he was feeling a similar way, and we slapped palms with an unnecessarily loud smack. 

“Shit!” I yelled, a little louder than I probably should have. The crowd of nerds turned to me with no real sense of urgency, never the kind of people to be concerned for my welfare. “I’m going to be late. I’m supposed to be home in five minutes. If you don’t see me tomorrow, you know what happened.” I grimaced before dashing home under the cover of darkness. As my phone was so eager to remind me, it was 8:56.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the first real chapter. As ever, any feedback would be very much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you for giving this a chance; I know AO3 is primarily a fanfic site so I really appreciate your willingness to branch out into the unknown. If you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos/a comment and I'll know to keep posting!


End file.
